


Granduer of Ghosts

by Katowisp



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Ashes Scene in Avengers: Infinity War Part 1, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Feels, Steve Rogers & Thor Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Thorin Feels, Thorin is a Softie, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 12:31:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16597976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katowisp/pseuds/Katowisp
Summary: Vignette post the ashes scene in Infinity War. Thor and Steve find each other, when they both need it the most.





	Granduer of Ghosts

A/n: complete notes at the end None of these guys are mine. A little vignette for Veteran’s Day. In memoriam to all those we have lost. 

 

Steve wandered the perimeter of the fight, stumbling to the place his best friend had been, moments ago. He felt sure there should be a pile of ash, some physical reminder that Bucky had been there, as though he could bottle what remained and buried him in Arlington with all the fanfare he deserved. When Bucky’s remains weren’t obvious, he fell to his knees and crawled across the forest floor, sweeping his hands out in delicate arcs in search of the remains His vision was blurry from the blow to the head, and so were his memories, but he couldn’t tell if that was because he was concussed or if Thanos had erased the very existence of his friend from the history of the universe, and his damaged brain was rewriting all his childhood days spent with Bucky, trying to create a history without him. Frightened at the possibility that he would lose the only thing he had left, he patted his arm, searching in futility for a pen. The most advanced nation on the planet had given him a suit without a pen.   
He threw up.

There was a heavy weight on his shoulder. “Can you stand, Captain?”

When Steve didn’t answer, Thor repeated his name. 

“I’m fine.” Steve allowed Thor to help him up, and when his legs didn’t hold his weight, Thor caught him. 

“Your head—“ Thor trailed off, batting his hand away when he reached for it

“It’ll heal.” Steve said. 

Thor didn’t say anything, and Steve wondered if it really did look that bad. “It’ll heal.” He said, again. 

“Okay.”

“You’ve changed.” Steve realized that the last time he had seen Thor, the god would never have said “okay”. Skovia seemed like a long time ago. “So have I.” 

“We’ve switched hair lengths, it is true.” When Thor caught his eye, there was a brief twinkle in his eyes, and Steve laughed in spite of himself. His vision splintered into light.

He threw up again.

“We need to get you to a healer.” Thor adjusted Steve’s arm around his neck. 

“Is there one left?” Bucky was falling out of a train, he was strapped to a table, he was sitting across from him last night sharing a clear liquor that burned as it went down. He was walking to him, and falling, collapsing into shadow and air. 

“I—don’t know. There must be. Where do I take you?”

“Back to the city. Have you seen Sam?”

“Your winged friend?”

“Yes.”

Thor didn’t answer, but Steve felt him stiffen. His stomach turned, but its contents were empty. 

“Who else? Have you seen T’challa? He was with me.” He looked at Thor’s face. There were scars he didn’t remember. Thor shook his head. “All of them?”

They came to the edge of the forest, the vast battlefield laid out before them. In the distance, Birnin Zana lay smoking. Thanos’ snap had been equally devastating to his own forces as it had been to the humans. 

“He even took the dying.” Thor observed, his voice thin. “They had earned their place in Valhalla, and he took it from them.” 

“I think I need to sit.” Steve said, his feet going out from under him. Thor settled beside him in the shadow of the trees. The forest was silent, as though every living thing remaining was hiding, afraid that they too would disappear into shadow and ash, as though hiding could save them. Below them, they could hear keening of warriors who had lost their best friends and loved ones with nothing to show for it. Lonely figures wandered the war-torn plain, looking for familiar faces. 

There was a pain in Steve’s chest that had nothing to do with his injuries. He grasped at his breast, as if it could relieve the pressure that had settled there. He wondered if that the serum has finally run its course and his heart, exhausted from a century of loss, was dying. 

But he felt his pulse in his ears, in the throbbing of his repairing head, and he breathed through the constriction and the pain. He wondered if Dr Erskine had any idea, all those years ago, what sort of curse he was placing on the young soldier when he had given him the serum. 

“How do you stand immortality?” 

“We are not immortal,” Thor said quietly. “I have lost my whole family. I have lost my brother.” His voice cracked at the last, his face turned away from Steve. He brought a hand to rest over his brow, to hide the tears Steve could see gathering in his eyes. 

“I didn’t know.” 

“It was in sacrifice for our cause, and my father would be proud. But,” Thor looked out over the battlefield, his eyes bright. “I would prefer to have my brother beside me.” 

They sat in silence, their shadows growing long with those of the trees. The afternoon sun glinted off the metal of the broken towers in the distance. Steve knew he should stand, that he should rally Thor, find whoever was left, and come up with a battle plan to defeat Thanos. But the heavy pressure in his chest was an unrelenting anchor. He felt it push up into his throat, and a sobbed escaped him. 

Silently, Thor wrapped his arms around him, and Steve buried his head in Thor’s chest, sobs shaking him. He felt Thor’s arms tighten, felt his hair grow damp from Thor’s own tears. “I don’t know if my memories are hazy because I was hit, or because he erased their existence from everything, and I am forgetting that they ever lived at all.” Steve managed, when he could breathe again. 

“I remember them. He did not erase their existence.” The demigod said, his grip on the captain still firm, a lifeboat in shifting seas. “We should definitely get you to a doctor though.” Thor continued. 

Steve reluctantly began to pull away, leaving the warmth and life of Thor’s arms. “This damn body will heal.” He said. “We should head to the city and see what remains. Who remains.” He accepted Thor’s hand up. The demigod placed a gentle hand on the side of his skull, investigating the injury. 

“You are lucky to have survived; this blow would have killed an ordinary man.”

“It isn’t luck.”

“No,” Thor agreed, “If everyone else is mortal, it is a curse. Here, let me assist.” The demigod wrapped Steve’s arm around his neck, tightening an arm around his waist. Steve felt he could probably make it back without help, but was thankful for the closeness of Thor beside him. It relieved some of the pain in his chest, and some of the loneliness in the air, as if even the earth missed all the people that had disappeared, a vacuum having been created in their wake. 

“Thank you.” Steve relaxed into Thor’s side. 

The demigod hummed beside him. Together, they made their way across the savaged land towards the broken spires of Birnin Zana, joining the pilgrimage of those remaining.

**Author's Note:**

> been a while since I wrote anything, and I’m not super happy where this left off, but PA school has been kicking my butt and I feel like I’ve lost the remainder of about all my creative juices. I graduate in a month and take my board test, and then I hope that I can walk in fields of imagination again. Anyway, hope you enjoy this little vignette. Title is from Siegfried Sassoon of a poem of the same name.


End file.
